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Bonnaroo Reviews: The Fest At Its Most Mediocre
By J.P. Gorman: 2007-06-21 01:38:06
Nothing is ever perfect. The very idea of perfection is a delusional construct constantly pursued by idealists working from first principles, only to be disappointed time and again. Even something as wonderful as Bonnaroo has warts and blemishes.That’s not to say anything about it was terrible, though, and that’s why this article is not called “The Worst of Bonnaroo.” Rather, with all the awesomeness swirling around the Bonnaroo grounds, a couple things were simply mediocre: not great, not awful, just kind of there. I’ve sat here all week humping everything about the festival; therefore, it’s only fair that I point out those things that weren’t quite up to snuff. And so, here we are, with all that was mediocre at Bonnaroo. Stupidest Weather Ever: The constant, unbearable daytime heat – It was so hot at Bonnaroo that by the time I got through the entrance each day I was already drenched in sweat. It literally took 30 to 40 seconds of movement, and the sweat train left the station. To make matters worse, our tents turned into portable convection ovens, hotter inside than out, the minute that sun came up. Sporadic cool breezes helped, but from noon or so until five or six, we were pretty much on our own on a sun-parched lot in the middle of nowhere. Only bad thing about the weekend. Most unbearable commercial: Vegoose ads running on the screens at What Stage – The Bonnaroo organizers wouldn’t let anyone camped out early for shows at the massive What Stage forget that they are also the team behind the Vegoose festival. Over and over, on a loop of 10 in a row at a time, blaring the same opening “Vegooooooose!” shouted by some eager performer with the same round of clips and the same blues song to finish. People were openly booing the Jumbotrons by the second day, and yes, I’m positive they weren’t saying “Vegoose.” The simultaneously thrown beer bottles were the first clue. Lamest vendor booth: Little Hippy – The tagline says it all: “For the child that rocks.” I realize vendors have to play to the audience if they’re to make any money. Still, give me a f*cking break. All the cool vendors were out in the campgrounds, anyway. Beer whose absence left the biggest void: Fat Tire – Supposedly they don’t sell this stuff east of the Mississippi. I get that. But at the Broo’ers Beer Garden, where so many other great beers from all over the nation were represented, where oh where was Fat Tire? Come on, the only place to find this beer on the eastern half of the country is hippie music festivals. Most disappointing. Sweetwater is really good, though. Get to know this beer. Biggest cause for early festival alarm: Persistent sound troubles through the first two days – The National went on a half hour late, while three roadies frantically ran from mic to mic during the delay, trying to get the show moving. The guitar player for Cold War Kids’ instrument cut out for a spell during their set, and the sound going to the large speakers on both sides of What Stage completely shut off for almost an entire song during Kings of Leon’s show. They got everything squared away eventually, and Saturday and Sunday went off without a hitch, but when three of the first four shows you see at a festival have technical difficulties, your heart rate kicks up a few notches—and not in a good way. Best reason to get to the festival site super early: Lines at the comedy and jazz tents – These had an easy explanation: The tents were closed and therefore had a fire marshal-approved maximum capacity. Security stood out front with clickers, allowing new people to enter when others exited. The only problem was that once people actually got into the show, they weren’t going anywhere. Not after standing in line for two hours. There were great comedians and jazz players in attendance at the festival, too, so something should be done about this for next year. Waiting in line in the hot sun really messes with your buzz. Single worst thing that happened all weekend: Ornette Coleman’s collapse – During his closing performance at the Other Tent, jazz great Coleman collapsed on stage due to heat exhaustion. The 77-year-old was taken to a local hospital and later said to be in stable condition. Thank god for that. Lots of people were very scared there for a while. Best wishes on a speedy recovery to Mr. Coleman. Biggest Asshole: Caleb Followill – Caleb, lead singer of Kings of Leon, was certainly the most important person at Bonnaroo. Or he carried himself like that, anyway. Would it have killed him to even once act genuinely honored to be opening the big stage at a festival he and his band started at on a MUCH smaller stage four years ago? Would it have killed him to show a little more appreciation beside the occasional, “So yeah, I guess we’re pretty honored to be here and whatever…” I know the power outage hurt your feelings, Caleb, and I know you guys are huge in England, but you grew up an hour down the road from Manchester and couldn’t be bothered with honestly saying “Thanks” to everyone who showed up for your show. Pretty lame, dude. Most head-scratching, pointless guest appearance: Alec Ounsworth on stage with Elvis Perkins in Dearland – Bonnaroo wouldn’t be Bonnaroo without performers bringing guests up to play with them (see Gov’t Mule, who brought Bob Weir, John Paul Jones and Luther Dickinson up). But for one thing, Ounsworth’s band, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, wasn’t playing the festival; he was just sort of hanging out with Perkins all weekend. For another, he came up on stage with them and stood in the back strumming an acoustic guitar, maybe singing, but not really doing much of anything. No one even noticed when he left. Very strange. Most obvious political target: George W. Bush – People all over Bonnaroo were taking potshots at President Bush, playing “Can you top this?” with who could say the most venomous thing or take the harshest anti-Bush stance. I don’t just mean performers, I mean everyone. By now, what’s the point? He’s got a year left, he can’t get anything done, no one likes him and he’s about as irrelevant as a sitting President can be. Sixteen months out we’ve already started the next Presidential race. It seems sometimes like people see him as a piñata and hope to be the one that makes the candy come flying out. Most pointless exercise: Having expectations – It’s a bad idea to have expectations in your daily life, as on some level you’ll always end up disappointed. Goes back to the perfection-seeking discussed above. But at Bonnaroo, having any expectation heading in is the utmost exercise in futility. With so many variables in play, attempting to schedule your day down to the minute or make the action fit some preconceived notion doesn’t make any damn sense. Go there as a clean slate and once your camp is set-up, it’s best to simply explore the scene and try to check out your favorite bands. I’m telling you, don’t plan much of anything. You’ll only end up disappointed, and there’s no room for frustration among all those happy vibes. OK, I’m done carping on a beautiful event that didn’t really deserve it. Up next, we have the good stuff, what I can proudly proclaim to the heavens as the Best of Bonnaroo. Hope my editor is ready, because it’s going to be a long one. Until then, I’ll leave you with this quote from Manu Chao: “What happened in the past can no longer hurt us.” And this one from Wayne Coyne: “What’s so great about Bonnaroo is it gives people an opportunity, once a year, to come to this place and say, ‘F*ck it, let’s take some acid and have a good time.’” Philosophers both. Until next time.
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June 22nd, 2007 at 01:52
First of all I do agree that Caleb was an asshole (and I'm one of the biggest Kings of Leon fans around) but...hell Jack White was more friendly on stage. Caleb made quite a few "jerk off" gestures during the show and was pissed about the sound. BUT he did recognize the fact that they were amazed to be on the main stage and he did thank the audience.
But mostly I agree.